


Something They Can Never Take Away

by prettybirdy979



Category: Daredevil (TV), Luke Cage (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Developing Friendships, First Meetings, Gen, Hurt Matt Murdock, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, POV Luke Cage, Protective Luke Cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 17:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: Luke's sure, from the moment he and Matt meet in person, that they're going to end up friends. There's not a lot of people in his orbit and Claire seems strangely insistent on it. Besides, Matt is a great guy so it's not like Luke minds.But then Matt doesn't seem to realise friendship means being more than a voice on the other side of brief calls. So Luke takes matters into his own hands.Hey, maybe he'll run into Daredevil while he's in Hell's Kitchen. That'll be fun too.





	Something They Can Never Take Away

**Author's Note:**

> This has been hanging around my fic docs since days after Luke Cage premiered and only now have I managed to do to a point where there's an ending and I can publish. 
> 
> Many thanks to Zwaluw for their betaing and general encouragement - and to lourdesdeath for the same thing. Thanks guys!

‘Mr Lucas, in light of everything you have suffered at the hands of our ‘justice’ system during the imprisonment for your wrongful conviction, I am sentencing you to one year’s imprisonment. However, I am also giving you credit for time served.’

The judge pauses and surveys Luke, her eyes soft despite the hard set of her face. ‘And seeing as you have already served two years, I am therefore ordering your immediate release. You are free to go,’ she finally smiles, the expression making her look years younger, ‘Mr Cage.’

The crowd behind Luke cheers, seeming deaf to the half hearted bangs of Judge Hartlet’s gavel. But the roar of the crowd is distant, as if Luke’s hearing it from underwater - the pounding of his heart in his ears seems more real to him than the cries of the crowd. There are taps on his shoulders - people clapping him on his shoulder in celebration? - each tap light and remote, as if they are hitting someone else’s shoulders instead of Luke’s.

Free.

He’s _free_.

He’s FREE.

Claire grabs him from behind, the scent of her shampoo as familiar as the sight of her hands which are now resting on his chest. Luke raises his shaking hands to grasp hers, his breaths catching on every exhale.

‘You’re free,’ she says, and it echoes in his ears, louder than any cheer of the crowd despite the fact it was a little more than a whisper.

‘I’m free,’ Luke repeats and it’s like a rock sinks through him, the knowledge so much more real than any word the judge said. ‘I’m _free_.’

********

Claire meets him outside the courthouse once his release has been processed, the smile on her face as bright as the sun. Brighter even, for all it’s the first time Luke’s seen the sun since becoming a free man.

Free. Nothing to run from anymore, he _won._ He’s a free man again.

God, nothing feels better than saying those words again and meaning them.

‘So, where to then?’

‘Well, we could always go home?’ Claire’s bright smile gains a leer and she looks him up and down. ‘I hear the coffee in New York is way better than the coffee down here.’

Harlem. Home.

‘I like the sound of that.’

********

‘You did not,’ Luke finds himself saying with a groan he feels in his bones as Claire turns the corner and the massive crowd outside Pop’s Barber Shop comes into view. The street is packed, familiar faces beacons in a crowd of strangers, all of whom are flanked by the media - the flashes of their cameras so frequent as to be strobe lights.

If Luke didn’t know better, he’d say a celebrity was coming to Harlem.

Claire just shrugs. ‘I mentioned to a few people we’d be back about now. Guess word got around.’

‘It’s Harlem. Nothing gets around town faster than any sort of word.’ Luke eyes the small smile at the corner of Claire’s lips, hot annoyance surging through his veins at the sight of it, and adds, ‘And telling ‘a few people’ is basically asking for word to be passed around.’

‘Oh is it? Who knew?’ She pulls into a parking space before Luke can get his gaping mouth to cooperate and form words, and is out of the car before he’s so much as unbuckled his seatbelt.

The crowd _roars_ at the sight of her, a noise that rattles Luke’s bones and sets his heart pounding. The noise only increases when he opens his door, becoming a thundering boom that drowns out all other noise to the point where it is almost a deafening silence. People rush forward, reaching to touch him - his hand, his chest, anything that is him. Electricity runs through his veins and sets every nerve alive in panicked readiness but it is tempered by the dawning realisation that these people mean him no harm… in fact, they’re here to welcome him home.

All these people, all this noise… for _him?_

For _him_.

‘Back off!’ Bobby’s voice is a whip crack through thunder, distinguished from the oppressive noise only because of its familiarity. ‘Come on people, give a man room to breathe.’

Luke pushes through the crowd, as gently as he can but with insistent pressure, a spear through the constant push of people. He emerges into a wider space and it’s like a rock’s been taken off his chest, breathing suddenly easy and the extra oxygen that floods his lungs makes him feel light headed.

‘Come on,’ Claire says and he looks up to see one of her more determined expressions as she grabs his hand. As always, her grip is faint, a barely there pressure that is just one part of the curse he lives with. But it’s easy enough to let her tug him through the last bits of the crowd and into Pop’s Barber Shop.

The door slams shut behind them, dampening the roar of the crowd outside. Luke takes the chance to try and catch his breath and calm his racing heart. Taking in the shop… it helps. All the damage has been erased as if it never existed; a clean slate for the shop to match Luke’s. It’s like walking into last year, when Pop’s presence had filled the shop - everything is exactly the same as it was back then right up to the swear jar on the counter and the signs on the wall.

Which isn’t actually helping his breathing. Focus Luke. Focus.

Movement in the corner of his eye. Every sense focuses, adrenaline flooding him as Luke finds himself counting. One, two, three, four people and all is s-

Wait. Luke does a quick count and there’s four people in the shop, including him. What? Claire in front of him, Bobby behind and… and some strange white man standing in the corner. The fuck? Luke takes a slow step forward, to put himself behind Claire and the man.

The man is wearing sunglasses inside just like Shades, which makes something in Luke tighten, and doesn’t seem too concerned with the fact he’s a stranger in a safe space.

‘Who’s this?’ Luke asks and hears Claire scoff behind him.

Then she steps around him, what the hell is she _doing_. ‘Matt?’

The man - Matt? Why does that name sound familiar? - offers a soft smile and puts his hand out, taking a step in Luke’s direction. ‘Mr Cage?’ he says and understanding floods Luke, followed by the hot flush of embarrassment.

Because he _knows_ this voice, if not the face. Matt Murdock, the lawyer who apparently owed Claire a lifetime of favours and helped get Luke out of prison. He couldn’t make it to Georgia - and shit, that’s a cane beside him; he’s not an asshole, he’s just blind which makes so much sense - but managed to get a Franklin Nelson to come down to Georgia and help take Luke’s case, to Claire’s delight. Apparently she would have asked Franklin to take the case but Matt had been the one to owe her favours.

But Matt had consulted, the voice on the end of a thousand calls and found proof of the experiments conducted on Luke in prison. _Admissible_ proof, the final hurdle for their case.

‘Matt Murdock!’ Luke says and shakes Matt’s hand vigorously. Too vigorously, if the way Matt grimaces is any indication, though the expression is only on his face for a split second. ‘It’s nice to finally put a face to the voice.’

Matt smiles, a crooked grin that almost looks… mischevious? ‘I’m sorry to say I can’t say the same.’

Luke blinks, trying to filter that into something understandable while Claire groans beside him. ‘I see what you did there Murdock,’ she grumps, pulling Matt into a hug.

He kisses the top of her head, sending a shot of something awful and hot through Luke, before grinning at her. ‘I didn’t.’

Wait. Is… is he making _blind jokes_? Luke starts to chuckle, the awful jealously being chased out by a warm amusement that heats up his body without consuming it like the jealously.

Claire swats Matt on the head and he cackles. ‘I always forget you’re actually capable of being an ordinary person - and a complete dork,’ she says, a tilt to her head that well. Doesn’t really match with her, admittedly curious, words. ‘And don’t you encourage him,’ she adds, turning to face Luke. ‘He’s bad enough as it is, when he’s in the mood.’

‘I should be offended but I’m aware I don’t actually have a defence here,’ Matt says. ‘Should I just plead guilty and accept the punishment?’

Again, Claire swipes at Matt’s head, though this time he’s able to avoid the hit with a small step right…

Right into Bobby.

Only Matt’s rapid step back and flailing grab at Bobby’s arm keep them both upright but for a moment it’s a mess of flailing limbs and confusion. Claire sighs and moves over to help.

Luke watches them all, a curious feeling in his chest.

‘Okay, we need to celebrate,’ Bobby says patting at Matt’s hand. ‘Beer’s on Pop… well, beer’s actually on Luke because it’s his money that paid for it but we’ll be raiding Pop’s fridge for it so the beer is actually on him.’

Matt takes a beer and frowns down at it. ‘...As a lawyer, do I want to ask about that statement at all?’

‘Right now? Nope.’ Luke clinks his beer against Bobby and takes a sip, managing not to gag at the taste. This is so Pop’s beer. ‘If things happen… maybe.’

‘Just let me know.’ Matt raises his beer. ‘Cheers,’ he says, echoed by everyone a moment later. He takes a sip and his lips twitch, the disgust flashing across his face in a split second.

Luke laughs at the sight. ‘Pop was many things but a man of good beer taste? Never.’

Bobby starts to defend Pop’s - and by extension, his - honour or at least taste, while Matt laughs outright and puts the beer down. Luke goes in search of something decent to drink, while Claire steals his and Matt’s bottles for when she’s finished hers, claiming she’s too well trained to be fussy about what she drinks.

Luke can tell already, it’s going to be a good evening.

********

And it is.

It turns out that, between Matt and Claire, there’s enough hilarious stories about the stupid things people do to themselves - or others, in Matt’s case - before getting what they’d earnt to last a lifetime. Claire’s story about a lawyer talking two idiots out of carving themselves up does seem to make Matt a bit sad, but then Bobby starts in with talking about his years watching Pop in the shop and the mood picks up.

By the end of the evening they’re as drunk as a bunch of college freshmen after their first party - so drunk in fact, that Matt’s able to kick everyone’s asses on some car based video game that the kids Bobby had in earlier left on the T.V. Bobby declares he’s cheating and leaves before Matt can grable out a protest, while Claire challenges him to a rematch. And another. And another. And another...

Luke wakes the next morning with a splitting headache, and the weight of two other people on his shoulders.

Literally on his shoulders. Matt’s heavier than he looks, solid muscle under the now very ruffled suit he’s wearing, and Claire has more heft to her than Luke thought she would. They grumble when he moves so he stays put.

It takes until that evening for Matt to leave, wearing too big clothes, his suit in his bag, and promises of future contact on his lips.

A new friend. Luke can work with that.

*******

But over the next few weeks, Matt…

Well, Matt stays as much a voice on the other end of the phone as he was when Luke was in Georgia. It’s _maddening_. So much for friends.

Time to take matters into his own hands. He’s been doing that alot lately and it seems to have worked out so far.

‘It’s like you live in a world, man,’ Luke says to the blinking and confused Matt as Luke pushes past him and into his apartment, ‘a world where Hell’s Kitchen is more than a subway ride from Harlem.’ Matt flinches when Luke brushes his side and Luke, for the moment, decides maybe not to mention the black eye. Gather evidence, then push.

‘And you act like you live in a world,’ Matt says, the dryness of his voice failing to cover the amusement in his tone, ‘where going north of 116th Street is a thing I do.’

The hell? Luke feels confusion fogging his brain as Matt moves back into his apartment, shutting the door with a slam behind him.

‘You were north of 116th when you were in Harlem.’

‘For the first time in my life,’ Matt says, as if this is a perfectly normal thing to say and it’s _Luke_ that’s being ridiculous. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Checking up on you man.’

Luke tries to get his mind to compute Matt’s statement but it’s like he’s hitting his head against a brick wall - one actually capable of harming him. Matt’s never been to the north of Manhattan? Sure there are people in Harlem who’ve never left the city but they have, at least once, managed to get to another part of it. But the way Matt’s talking…

‘You’ve never been north of 116th Street before?’

‘Claire sent you?’

What? Oh. ‘Of course she did man.’

Luke runs his eyes over Matt, looking for any other signs of injury. Is that a slight limp? No wonder Claire wanted him to drop in.

‘Have you ever left New York?’

‘I’ve never left Manhattan.’ Matt slips his glasses on and his shoulders sag. ‘Coffee?’

Luke shakes his head and goes back to examining Matt, only looking up when the silence turns awkward. Matt’s still standing there, coffee cup in one hand and an expectant tilt to his head. But Luke said no-

Oh fuck.

‘I just shook my head,’ Luke says and Matt smirks, even as hot shame floods Luke and makes him glad Matt can’t see how red his cheeks have gone, judging by how hot they are. ‘Guessing that’s not a first?’

‘It does tend to happen.’

Matt pats around and pulls out a clear jar of coffee which surprises Luke a bit. What’s the point of a clear jar for a blind man?

‘Can I get you anything else? I think there might be tea in the back of one of the cupboards, if you’re up to having a look. Fogg… A friend of mine threw them up there for a joke. Or there’s beer in the fridge.’

Oh there is a world of stories in that line, and in the sudden tightness of Matt’s voice but Luke’s not here to push.

Not yet anyway.

‘Nah man, I’m fine.’

Luke settles into the couch as Matt makes himself a cup of coffee, waiting until he’s sat down before asking, ‘So, I am going to have to come down here if I want to see you again?’

If Luke had punched Matt, right in the stomach, he’s not sure Matt would look as completely floored as he does right now. Never has Luke seen such a look of absolute surprise on a man’s face - do eyebrows normally go that high or is it just an effect of the glasses?

Is Matt _surprised_ that Luke wants to see him again?

‘I… ah, don’t often get up to Harlem,’ Matt says, in the most measured and cautious voice Luke’s ever heard. ‘I’m not exactly at my best in new places.’

Ah. Yes. That’s… yeah. Luke nods and a second later more hot shame floods him. Damn it Luke, get it right.

‘I just nodded,’ he says and the small, grateful quirk of Matt’s lips at his actions makes something twist inside him. ‘Right then. Dinner?’

Matt blinks then frowns, his posture suddenly tense. Something in Luke stirs, a shiver up his back that screams ‘danger’ and ‘pay attention’. It takes him a moment to realise his body’s reacting to Matt’s stance - a boxing one? Is that why it’s familiar?

‘And if I’m not hungry?’

Luke shrugs, remembering to narrate the gesture this time.

‘Then we do something else. I owe you big time for everything you did, and well…’ He shifts then manages to get out, ‘And I don’t have a lot of people round here who don’t hero worship me for everything. It’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t treat me… treat me like a hero.’

It’s a long moment before some of the tension leaves Matt’s figure - not much, but enough to get the hairs on Luke to relax and for his heart to start to slow.

‘I can understand that,’ he says and there’s something in his voice that Luke believes wholeheartedly. Somehow, Matt _does_ understand.

‘So dinner?’ Matt cocks his head and Luke adds, ‘It’ll help me with Claire, if I can testify you ate. She might even decide not rush down here when I tell her about the state you’re in.’

That gets a laugh from Matt.

‘So long as I’m upright and not bleeding, I don’t think she’d bother coming down. We’ve had this fight before; she lets me make my own stupid choices now.’

Luke just hums, not willing to fight. Matt might be underestimating Claire’s concern for him though, if he thinks she wouldn’t come. Hell, she’s probably still going to come once Luke mentions this to her, even if he’s gotten Matt some care.

‘Chinese then? I’ll pay.’

‘I still don’t want to know about the money, right?’ Matt asks, a smirk creeping across his face.

‘Not right now no.’

Shaking his head, the smirk still on his face, Matt heads towards the corner of the room where a cane is resting against the wall.

‘Keep some of that aside, you might need it for my fees.’

‘Oh so I can’t pay you in blueberry pie? Isn’t that your usual rate?’ Luke says, from his new position by the front door.

Matt laughs, actually throwing his head back with the force of it.

‘Of course not. I have standards - apple pie or cash, your choice.’

Laughing in turn, Luke follows Matt out the door and to a local place Matt swears has the best food around. It certainly has the best lighting around, the roof is practically glowing.

On the way back to Matt’s, Luke ducks into a convenience shop and buys the best frozen apple pie they have and presents it to Matt with a flourish. Matt _giggles_ the rest of the way home and insists on serving it.

It’s not actually that bad.

********

Visits to Matt’s become a habit. Claire’s constantly worrying about him, even if it’s just sighs after a phone call from him so Luke steps up to check in on him.

But… Luke’s not just making his way into Hell’s Kitchen (always carefully with an eye out for black hair and leather jacket) just as a favour to Claire. Not now at least.

Matt’s… Matt’s _interesting_ , in a way Luke can’t quite seem to describe. Meek and easily overlooked but with a stance - a proper boxing stance - that would make Carl Lucas weep with envy. Hell, even Luke Cage is a little green eyed himself. And the fact Matt falls into so naturally and constantly… it’s second nature to him, Luke can tell.

If the two of them were in prison, Matt’s the kind of man Luke would be steering well clear of. Mostly because either he’d be running the place, or he’d be the loner left alone because he had the respect - and fear - of the men who did. He’s danger, hiding behind a pair of red glasses.

Plus there’s the fact Luke’s yet to beat the man at darts.

‘Man, if you came into my old bar doing this shit,’ Luke says watching Matt score another bullseye, ‘I’d have thrown you out after the first hussle and been thankful.’

Matt grins and throws another dart - out of turn, but Luke doesn’t care. It’s incredible and has something like bewildered awe filling Luke, making it impossible for him to stop smiling. It seems once Matt’s pointed in the right direction, he’s incapable of missing.

One hell of a party trick.

‘Your old bar?’ Matt asks as he pulls out his bullseyes, then feels around for any stray shots. The smirk dancing at the corner of his lips says that he knows that there aren’t any stray shots, the asshole. ‘You work there or-’

‘Used to own a bar,’ Luke finds himself admitting, the memory of the flames dancing around his body sharp and clear in his mind. Just as clear is the memory of his own voice, distant but there in the back of his head, screaming to _stop_ and _move_ and _nonononononono_.

Is it hot in here? He feels so warm all of a sudden…

‘What happened?’ Matt says, his voice soft and gentle. He puts a hand on Luke’s shoulder, the physical contact jolting through Luke’s veins. It is enough to chase most of the shadows of Kilgrave out of his mind - he’s here, he’s safe, Kilgrave is dead. He’s okay.

Shaking his head Luke says, ‘It burnt down and I got outa there.’ It’s… well it’s not a lie but it’s definitely summarising the truth a lot.

Matt squeezes Luke’s shoulder then let’s go. ‘Another round?’ he asks, holding up a dart with  a smirk.

Luke laughs. ‘Alright you shark, one more round.’

********

For all the time Luke’s spent in Hell’s Kitchen - first at his bar, then with Jessica, and now with Matt - he’s never run into Daredevil. For someone as active as this Devil, Luke’s somehow managed to miss even a sign of his presence. Luke has no tales of a shadowy figure lurking on rooftop as he passes, nor has he heard the distant sound of fighting that the whispers say always belong to the Devil.

Hell, he doesn’t even have a friend of a friend who has this friend who once happened to see a flash of red that might’ve been Daredevil. In a place as small as Hell’s Kitchen - and Luke has to admit Harlem - can be, that’s practically a miracle. Everyone knows someone who knows someone.

But not Luke.

...well not Luke until like two seconds ago.

Damn he really needs to stop with this hero bullshit.

Going into darkened alleys because you can hear the sound of fighting is never a good idea. Especially when you find, at the end of said alley, a man in the process of being beaten to death by a dude in what Luke can only describe as fetish gear.

Because up close it’s not scary, it’s just a bit ridiculous. From the silly little horns to the colour… Luke has to swallow a giggle.

A giggle that dies in his throat when Daredevil turns to look at him, a drop of blood dripping from his clenched fist still hovering over the man he’s attacking. The look on his face… the _look._ Luke’s seen a lot of violence in his life but never has he seen someone beating a man with a look like _this_ _._  It’s the twisted, _devil’s_ grin of a man who’s enjoying every moment of the violence he’s delivering somehow combined with the guilt Luke’s seen on a dozen people; those that truly regret what they did but saw no other way out. In their minds, they did the right thing.

It definitely makes the fetish gear a lot less ridiculous and shivers start to creep down Luke’s spine. Daredevil can’t hurt him but somehow he thinks this… this might be a close fight.

‘Daredevil,’ Luke says and takes a slow step forward.

‘Stay back,’ Daredevil growls in a low but familiar voice. Has Luke heard him speak on the news before?

Luke stops and holds up both hands. ‘Hey, I know your MO. Bad guys only. But man, think that guy’s had enough, you know?’ And the man probably has, judging by the broken wheezing noises he’s making and the blood flowing down his face.

‘He knows where they’re keeping a dozen children,’ Daredevil says but he drops his fists, shifting his weight so he’s in… in a _boxing_ stance.

The type of boxing stance that still makes Luke want to weep with envy. Shock floods him, his heart pounding as the pieces slip into place - the bruises; the darts; Claire’s worry but caginess about, well everything about their relationship from how they met to why he owes her so much...

Well. It makes sense. Guess Luke has more in common with Matt than he thought.

Daredevil shifts again, drawing Luke’s attention. Right. In the middle of a conversation. ‘And he’s not talking?’

‘Obviously,’ Daredevil says, the corner of his lip rising in a sheer. ‘Now if you’re not going to help Mr Cage,’ and Luke finds himself raising an eyebrow because that’s purely Matt’s voice, no growl and all his annoyed politeness, ‘then get lost.’ The ‘before I make you’ is a tiny implication, hidden deep in Matt’s - sorry _Daredevil’s_ \- voice.

‘Okay. Where do we start?’

Blinking, Daredevil relaxes his stance. Just a inch but it’s enough.

The man at his feet bursts into movement, rushing at Matt’s legs, blood flying everywhere. Daredevil strikes as the man reaches his legs, a solid punch to the face that’s too late to stop any of the momentum. They go down in a tangle of limbs.

Luke’s moving before his mind has time to form a thought, pulling the man off Matt - no _Daredevil_ \- and holding him dangling in one hand. It’s not hard, like holding a puppy used to be, and from the amount of wriggling the man’s doing, he’s too dumb to realise it. Or he doesn’t know who Luke is; that’s also an option.

Matt tries to stand, wobbles a bit then falls back as Luke hoists the man higher. Before Luke can say anything, Matt’s trying again, using the wall to bring himself into a wobbling but standing position.

‘How long can you hold him there?’ Ma… no, that growl is Daredevil, asks.

Luke shrugs, his grip on the man as steady as it was a moment ago. ‘A while. Never really had the urge to test it.’

With a hum, Daredevil looks up… no, raises his head because he’s _blind_ , he’s not looking at anything, so he seems to be staring at the edge of the roof of the building beside them. ‘Any difference between holding this asshole here or up there?’

Luke shivers at the implied threat in Daredevil’s voice and at the sheer matter of factness of his tone. He’s not bluffing; Luke knows bluffing and there’s not a hint of it in Matt’s voice. If Luke agrees, Matt would happily use him as a threat.

At least there’s guilt in Matt’s voice too. Or Luke hopes there is.

But it’s not needed. Apparently their hovering asshole isn’t as dumb as he appears. ‘They’re at the dock! On the Missy Bigs! Please please please, let me go. Please please plea-’

Luke drops him and he falls to the ground with an audible thump. Before he’s even managed to scramble to a kneeling position, Daredevil’s on him. One punch, two punch… the blood covers the ground as the man groans his way into unconsciousness.

Daredevil stands, still as shaky as he was a moment ago with his head bowed and chest heaving. ‘I’m sorry,’ _Matt_ says, none of Daredevil’s growl in his voice. ‘I wasn’t ever going to make you do that.’

‘Don’t be,’ Luke says. ‘I would’ve done it.’

Matt smiles at him, soft and so so familiar - Luke saw the same expression when he told Matt he hangs out with him because he _wants_ to. ‘You’re lying,’ he says, his tone dry and matter of fact.

‘You saying I couldn’t do it?’ A part of Luke feels offended, in a way that makes him a little sick to his stomach, at the possibility that Matt thinks he wouldn’t have threatened that asshole for the greater good.

‘No, that you wouldn’t.’ Matt starts to stalk off, pausing beside the fire escape stairs. ‘You wouldn't have have done it because you’re a better man than me.’

And with that, he jumps for the fire escape, misses and makes it on a second jump. Without looking back, he starts to try to make his way up the stairs, on legs that are making the metal rattle with every movement.

A sudden memory sinks through Luke, cold and terrifying in its implications. Matt was limping yesterday, when Luke saw him, apparently because he’d tripped over someone’s bin.

Luke’s been hanging around Matt long enough to know that even if he’s got superpowers, no way do they including any sort of healing ability. No one who can heal keeps bruises like the ones Matt has for as long as he does.

Shit.

‘Need a hand?’ Luke asks, already halfway to the fire escape. He’s only asking for the courtesy of it; either way he’s going.

Somehow, Matt must pick up on this. ‘If I say no, will you go back to Harlem?’

‘What do you think?’ Hanging unspoken in the air is the fact Luke knows where to go from here - he heard it as clearly as Daredevil did.

With a sigh, Daredevil holds out his hand and Luke grabs it, letting Matt think he’s helping Luke up to grab the first level. In reality, the moment Luke has a solid footing, he’s taking as much of Matt’s weight as the man is willing to give.

‘Lead on Macduff,’ Luke says and smirks at the grimace that crosses Matt’s face.

********

Luke’s sure Matt thinks his help is a one time offer, that Luke’s only going to help Daredevil this time because it’s kids. And okay yeah, there’s a bit of evidence for that. It’s not like Luke’s been at Daredevil’s side before and he doesn’t say much while helping, focused as he is on handing up each of the dozen terrified kids to Matt, who’s perched on top of the cargo box that would’ve stolen them from their homes.

They don’t fight any of the guards, instead sneaking the kids out - Matt carrying one on each hip while the older six walk and Luke carries the rest. Despite his recent experiences causing a buzzing nervousness that itches under his skin, Luke follows Matt to the 15th precinct and sends the kids in alone.

It’s safer that way, even if it gives Matt the chance to fade into the shadows the moment the last child crosses the threshold. Luke’s good but he finds himself gapping at the darkness in awe at how quickly Matt disappeared.

Like a ninja. Or a ghost.

Either way, he leaves too soon for Luke to say anything; to make it clear this is not a one time offer. Because he’s not just here for the kids, he’s here for _Matt_ , the stubborn but interesting dart shark of Hell’s Kitchen; the friend of Claire’s who somehow became Luke’s friend too. Luke is here for every bit of the contradiction that is Matt Murdock, as someone to help kick ass or too have their ass kicked at darts.

Whichever. Luke’s learnt - learning - to take allies as they come, and to cling to friends.

If his recent life has taught him anything, it’s that the line between ‘ally’ and ‘friend’ is easily blurred and that friends can be short lived.

********

So the next night Luke makes his way to Hell’s Kitchen, bluffs his way onto one of the roofs neighbouring Matt’s building, and settles in to wait.

It doesn’t take long for Daredevil to appear, his shoulders hunched and footsteps careful and slow. He jumps onto Matt’s roof, clearly trying to give the impression he didn’t come from that building no way, before making the jump to the roof Luke’s on.

He only stumbles for a step or two after his landing. But Luke’s no idiot, and even in the fading light it’s easy to see the way Matt’s legs are shaking. He grits his teeth and swallows down any protests - they’ll come later.

‘Evening,’ he says in his calmest voice.

Mat - no _Daredevil,_ pauses halfway across the roof and tilts his head. If it was anyone else, Luke would say Matt was eyeing him up, trying to judge his intentions. Though there’s no reason Matt can’t be doing that, just without the eyeing bit.

‘Can I help you?’ Matt’s voice is the super polite one Luke’s heard a couple of times since they started hanging out but there’s a hint of a growl to it. Like a cornered animal, waiting to strike. Tread lightly Luke…

‘I was in the neighbourhood, thought I’d check in. Lend a hand.’ Luke shrugs, keeping his body relaxed and his breathing steady despite the way his heart is pounding. If this comes to a fight… well Matt’s the better fighter but Luke’s a lot stronger and bulletproof. No way either of them will walk away from this in one piece - whether the injuries be physical or emotional.

‘I don’t need help.’

‘Okay,’ Luke says in his lightest tone. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t help anyway.’

Matt takes a step back and it’s all Luke can do not to match it with a step forward. ‘What about Harlem? Shouldn’t you be looking after your own city before you start worrying about mine?’

A fair question but Luke’s thought this through. ‘Harlem’ll be fine without me for the night. Friend of mine had business up there and agreed to keep an eye on a few people while she worked.’

Well he says ‘friend’. Trying to qualify his feelings towards Jessica Jones would require all the words than the English language contains and then some. But a request for help was passed to her through Claire and she agreed to come. Luke’s not sure if Jessica actually had a job in Harlem or was trying to pretend she’s a heartless bitch who only does favours when it suits her, but as the result is the same he’ll let her save whatever face she wants to save.

Plus it’s not like he’s needed every night in Harlem. Just some nights.

Okay most nights.

‘I don’t need help,’ Matt repeats and takes another step back.

It’s the wrong move, undermining his point as Luke’s words never could. His knee buckles, he stumbles and falls, ending up in a kneeling position. Luke raises an eyebrow Matt’ll never see as Matt clenches his teeth and tries to stand again.

And falls again, this time to his hands and knees. Luke can hear the groan of pain from here, a soft noise that echoes through his bones.

He’s moving before he realises, throwing Matt’s arm over his shoulder and taking some - okay, all - of Matt’s weight. Anything to get him off that injury.

Matt tenses up, a frozen but vibrating statue. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Helping,’ Luke says, none of the annoyed worry dancing in his veins coming out in his voice. Matt tries to wriggle out of his grasp so Luke tightens his hold slightly. ‘Seriously man, you’re in no condition to be out here. So I’m helping.’

‘I don’t need your help!’ And here’s the bark of the cornered animal, fiercer than its bite but only because it’s not had time to bite yet.

Okay, maybe Luke should drop the metaphor. It’s getting a little extended even if, by the way Matt’s making little huffing growling noises, it’s probably still accurate.

‘I know. But I’m offering it anyway.’

Matt stops trying to push Luke’s arm off and tilts his head towards Luke. ‘Why?’

Luke blinks, his grip slacking a bit in surprise. Matt starts to wriggle again, trying to dance away from Luke’s support, and he tightens his grip. ‘What?’

‘Why are you helping me? You don’t know me!’

Well that’s a bit rough. ‘I know you’re a good man Daredevil, if a damned foolish one.’

A final jerking wriggle and Matt stills. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you knew me.’

‘What do you me-’

‘Why do you care?’ Matt cuts in, a bite in his voice.

If it wasn’t for the fact it’s probably a useless gesture, Luke would be rolling his eyes right now. ‘Because I think you dead is a bad thing - both for Hell’s Kitchen and just in general. World needs you alive man, and I’m willing to help out.’

‘You shouldn’t.’

‘Why not?’

Matt turns his head, looking Luke right in the eyes and takes off his mask. ‘Because I’m a liar,’ he says, his sightless eyes unnerving as they seemingly bore into Luke’s soul. Matt’s jaw is set and his shoulders tense but Luke’s grip is such that he can feel how Matt is shaking. ‘And I only get people killed.’

‘Well I’m no saint either,’ Luke says and maybe he pulls Matt a bit closer as the weight of the words in the second part of his statement sinks in. ‘Never claimed to be.’ He glances around, scanning the nearby rooftops. ‘Though if you don’t put that mask back on, you might end up like me and I’m not sure that’ll suit you much.’

‘Your heart…’ Matt says, as he slips the mask back on, ‘it’s… it’s _steady_.’ He frowns as Luke tries to process the wealth of information in his words. ‘You already knew?’

‘I already knew. Put the pieces together last night, but most of the signs were there before.’

If Luke had punched Matt, he would look less poleaxed. ‘But… you came here tonight? Even though I lied?’

Luke hitches Matt into a better position and starts to move him - carry him really - back towards his building. This might be a conversation better held inside.

‘But I _lied_ to you. Every moment you were with me, I lied to you.’ Matt slumps, and while the lack of resistance makes carrying him easier it sends a jolt of alarm through Luke. He leans in and it’s good he does, as Matt’s next words are in a whisper. ‘You shouldn’t be here; I’m going to get you killed.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Luke says, trying to keep his voice as amused as possible. ‘But I doubt you can manage what a goddamned exploding bullet couldn’t.’ He eyes off the distance between this roof and Matt’s. Can he make the jump? It might be easier than taking Matt all the way down and back up to his roof but it’s also far riskier.

‘What?’

Shit Matt’s dazed. Risk is worth getting to his sofa faster.

‘I’m bulletproof Matt,’ Luke ignores how Matt tenses and hisses at the sound of his name, ‘so there ain’t much that’ll kill me. You can’t scare me off with that sort of talk.’

‘And the lying?’

Luke gathers Matt up as fast as he can and makes the jump, smirking a bit at the noise Matt makes. A squawk, almost like a startled chicken. He scrambles out of Luke’s grip the moment their feet touch the roof, actually making it a dozen steps before he stumbles and falls with a hiss.

With a sigh, Luke moves to Matt’s side. ‘When did you lie?’ he asks as he bends down to look Matt in the eyes.

Matt freezes, giving Luke the chance to pick him up and get his weight leaning on Luke’s shoulders again. ‘A lie of omission is still a lie.’

‘And what right did I have to be told you were Daredevil?’ Luke shifts Matt a bit, so he’s technically walking but with any actual weight on his legs.

‘But… I _lied_. How can you trust me?’ Matt reaches out a hand and pushes the roof’s door open, seemingly resigned to Luke carrying him.

So this is where the stairs go. Sweet.

Luke considers his next words as he puts Matt down on his couch and helps him take off the mask. There’s a weight in the air, a significance waiting to be voiced. Words have power and his next ones are already humming with their potential.

‘If you’ve lied, it’s been to protect people-’

‘Myself-’

‘-people,’ Luke repeats, ignoring the fact Matt’s spoken. ‘You wear a mask for a reason and trust me, I get why.’

‘You don’t wear a mask.’ Matt sounds accusing which, yeah, is probably fair.

Luke just shrugs. ‘I never really planned on being a hero.’ He sighs, the memory of Pop’s blood burning his hands. ‘And I didn’t realise I had anything much to protect until it was too late to protect it.’

Matt tilts his head. ‘You regret not wearing a mask.’

‘Well, no. I do not regret avoiding the ridiculousness of costumes like yours.’ Matt scowls but there’s a slight lift to his mouth that might be a smile. ‘I sometimes wish though, that I could’ve done more to protect my people. I regret not opening my eyes and noticing what I had earlier… might’ve been able to do more than I did.’

His words echo a bit in the silence of the room, lingering long after they finished sounding.

Then Matt nods, a small smile on his face. ‘I can understand that. I was selfish at first, but I knew what I was getting myself into.’

‘See, there’s the difference between us. I fell into this bullshit, you chose it.’

The moment the words leave his mouth, Luke knows they’re the wrong ones. Matt flinches and turns his head away.

‘I chose to lie.’

Luke waits a moment, to give his words the appearance of being carefully considered. ‘You chose to be prepared for this. Didn’t bury your head in the sand when you realised what had to be done.’ With a shrug, Luke adds, ‘You can’t deny that much.’

Matt is silent for a long time, his head tilted as he stares… well has his head pointed towards Luke and listens intently maybe?

Then he frowns. ‘You believe what you’re saying.’

It’s Luke’s turn to frown. ‘Course I do. Ain’t got any reason to lie.’

And for a brief second, Matt’s face lights up. Just a second, but long enough.

Luke grins. ‘Now, can I do something about your injuries or am I going to have to get Claire here?’

********

Claire ends up coming anyway, once Luke calls to ask about fractures - not fully trusting Matt’s claims that he can’t hear any - and well. Watching her all but bully Matt into his bed with only a sigh at his actions makes Luke grateful he’s unlikely to be on the other side of her care.

She’s good, that’s all he’s saying. Very good.

He goes up onto the roof while she works, and the sky is just starting to lighten up when he hears the door open. A moment later, Claire sits on the edge of the roof beside him.

‘He’s going to get himself killed,’ she whispers, staring out towards the first rays of dawn.

Luke examines her for a long moment. ‘Not if I have anything to say about it.’

Claire smiles, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. ‘He might not let you have anything to say.’

‘He’s not going to get a choice,’ Luke declares and Claire finally turns to look at him. ‘I’ve lost enough of my friends; I’m not losing another.’

Claire’s phone beeps then, and she fishes it out. Then snorts, turning it so Luke can see the screen.

 _Do I get a say in this?_  The text reads, from a contact labeled as M.

It’s Luke’s turn to snort. ‘No you don’t.’

‘And go to sleep,’ Claire adds, ‘Or you’ll tear a stitch.’

Another beep for another message. This one has Claire rolling her eyes and smiling, muttering about Matt’s references being years out of date.

 _As you wish_.

 


End file.
